Explore Our Crazy World © Surazeus 2025 03 07 I have become the gold cloud in the sky with eager laughter of the running horse through passion to explore our crazy world before they blow it up with greedy bombs so only mute trees grow where empires thrived, transforming our bones into juicy fruit. My eyes consume light trapped in shapes of hope composed of secrets people throw away while trapped in tangled tongues of wordlessness with angry penitence of futile faith born from confusing trees of honest rocks that tumble haughtily in gruesome streams. When ghost of God possesses my frail body I impersonate that strange deity with professional parody of faith which channels subconscious angst of desire to be light that fractures galaxies with spinning obsolescence we exchange. While mapping bold catastrophe of hope, the ecstatic pessimist of fake Mars contrives to imitate electric time when he drives truck of curiosity while Bastet rests her paw on his right hand to guide their journey across the waste land. Though Sirius plants the tangerine tree on what he thinks is last day of the world, he walks backward to unspool road of time past all the people rising up from death to find the first tree that grew from the Earth one hundred forty million years ago. Since he thinks greenness is one kind of grief that transforms wounds of sorrow into blooms, he decides he is not going to grow old while building walls of stone with bleeding hands so no one else can eat fruit of his tree which gives us the magic power of speech. I see the planet Jupiter gleam white beside silver joy of the crescent moon, both lights reflected into the surly pool that cleanses my spirit with evening glow hidden in pages of never-read books to preserve memories I share with no one. Gesturing his hands to control the waves, Sirius chants spell based on ocean song so no one can now recognize his face abandoned in dim shadows of lost days to become gold clouds in the morning sky which transforms juicy fruit into his bones.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
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Friday, March 7, 2025
Explore Our Crazy World
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Orpheus strolls among the fruit trees of his orchard on the dew-wet hillside while Ophelia attends the Association of Writers and Writing Programs conference.
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